Remembrance
by Lisa4
Summary: Completed! Sequel to "Innocence." Ten years after their fated meeting, a chance encounter with Usagi leaves Mamoru with an agonizing dilemma: to try and get closer to the girl who no longer remembers him, or to let her go.
1. Remembrance Prologue

_Title: Remembrance_

_Author: Lisa_

_Chapter: Prologue _

_Rating: PG_

_Author's Notes:_

_Hi minna! It's been awhile, but I'm back with my latest project, a multi-part sequel to "Innocence." I've been toying with the idea of a sequel for some years now, but never got around to writing one. It shouldn't be longer than 3-4 chapters (if that), which I'm hoping to complete in the next few weeks. Hope you enjoy this short chapter, and please review at the end!_

_Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

* * *

"_Silly Mamoru, always!"_

Always, she had said. Always. I had clung to that word, that unconditional promise that I would not be forced to remain alone in this harsh, unforgiving universe for the rest of my days, like a lifeline for the remainder of my stay in the hospital.

Weeks passed, then months, and gradually my body erased all physical traces of the accident that had crushed my innocence. Where my body healed, however, my mind could not. As months drifted into years, I would lie wide awake night after night on the hard bunk bed in the orphanage, listening to the soft snores of my other ill-fated companions, my morbid fantasies conjuring up and replaying the crash again and again like a broken record forever stuck upon a heartbreaking tune. The result was always the same; I'd be left without even the memory of my own name.

Yet as my subconscious teetered on the edge of that dark pit of agony, _her_ voice would break free from the black clouds above, throwing me that desperately-needed rope to pull me over from my personal cliff of despair.

Usagi. Always.

A decade later, and her open declaration still rang loud and clear in my dreams. It was pathetic, perhaps, but could a starving man really be faulted for rosy memories of the first feast to break his fast? Ten long years of clinging onto a memory of a girl I'd likely never encounter again. Perhaps she had moved away from these busy streets of Tokyo, moved on without any further thought of the broken boy drowning in the hospital sheets all those years past. Perhaps…

I sighed, shading my eyes from the rays of sunlight that always managed to dance past my fully closed blinds. I threw the blankets from my body and let the cold air immediately grip me, effectively chasing away the fog of night and traces of a certain blond-haired angel. I mechanically began my daily morning routine—which mostly consisted of ensuring that my coffeemaker dutifully brewed the dark liquid without which I'd likely cease to function—and soon found myself standing on my balcony, peering down at the masses of people already scrambling about in preparation for the upcoming festivities. Now armed with a cup of steaming coffee, I examined the crowds with disinterested eyes. It was as if everyone was moving, everyone had a purpose, a destination...except me, the boy who masqueraded as a man forever searching for his destiny.

Catching the rather ominous turn of my thoughts, I decided that a trip to see my best (who was I kidding, and only) friend was in order. Motoki's never-ending optimism always amazed me, and I thanked whichever lucky star I still had watching over me that I had not scared him away like many others who had the misfortune of crossing paths with me.

* * *

Motoki slid a steaming cup of coffee toward me with a knowing glance.

"Dreams again last night?" he asked sympathetically. That was Motoki, always straight to the point. I took comfort in his simplicity; Motoki was never one to keep you guessing as to what he was thinking.

"Why else would I be like this?" I grumbled into my cup and took a long sip, allowing the dark liquid to soothe my frazzled nerves.

"Did you dream of_ her_?"

I had shared the details of my past with Motoki years ago, although it had taken weeks for me finish sharing the entire story. A hefty portion of my sorrowful tale had centered on Usagi. He tried to be understanding, to be sure, yet somehow I don't think he comprehended exactly how much she meant to me. '_When you've suffered a deeply traumatic event, you're bound to cling onto that one good thing that makes the rest a little more bearable_,' he had said. '_It's human nature_.' I had bit back the urge to snap at him, as if Usagi could be reduced to some line discussing the human mind in a psychology textbook. No, she had been—was still—more to me than that. She had seen me, the real me, and accepted my imperfections with open arms and a smile. She had been young, to be sure, but I had foolishly judged her by her age once and wasn't about to make that mistake again.

"Are you surprised?"

Luckily Motoki didn't seem annoyed with my evasive method of answering.

"Oh Mamoru. I bet it's this time of year that has you down. Don't worry, a few more days and things will be back to normal. No more of this sappy, 'everyone is so happy and thankful' stuff."

I smiled ruefully, knowing that Motoki himself had plenty to be happy and thankful for. His girlfriend Reika, for example, who rivaled Motoki in her pleasantness.

"Hai, you're right," I played along, not wanting to let on to Motoki that his efforts to cheer me up were proving unsuccessful.

"Tell you what, Mamoru. Why don't you come with me and Reika to my parents' place for New Year's dinner? They've been asking about you, and you know you're always welcome. And afterward, I'm sure there are a few parties we could crash."

I cringed. Motoki had a great family—the kind of family I imagined I once had—and I'd be lying if I said his mother wasn't an excellent cook. Yet every time I went, I couldn't help feeling like an imposter, as if I were forcing myself into someone else's happily ever after. How did the old adage go, 'misery loves company?' I at least had the decency to not drag anyone else down with me, especially during the holidays.

"Arigato Motoki, but I have plans…" That sounded pathetic even to my ears.

"Brooding in front of your television doesn't count," he joked. Motoki knew me too well.

"I'll think about it, then," I replied grudgingly, annoyed that I was apparently that transparent, then tossed the remainder of the cooling coffee into my mouth and counted out the change for the drink. "I better get going. I have some work I need to finish." If lying in my bed staring blankly at the ceiling counted as work, that is.

"But you're on break, Mamoru." Of course, leave it to Motoki to state the obvious. I really needed to meet someone who wasn't privy to my every movement.

"Ja." I waved goodbye and pretended not to hear Motoki's disappointed sigh. He really was everything a man could want in a best friend, and I fervently hoped that he wouldn't wake up one day and regret befriending a lost cause.

* * *

Now on my third cup of coffee for the day (my goal of cutting my caffeine consumption could wait until the new year, I resolved), I plopped down on my couch with a groan. Classes wouldn't start again for another week, which meant another week where I was at a loss in finding enough items to occupy my waking hours. I had already gotten ahead on readings for my classes next semester, re-read favorite works that had started to collect dust on my bookshelves, re-ordered my furniture to maximize space efficiency, and even cleaned around the apartment until the very last dust bunny had fallen to my meticulous, boredom-driven cleanliness. Having exhausted my daily visit to see Motoki—he may be my best friend, but I doubt event the saintly Motoki could handle multiple doses of Mamoru in one day—I found myself terribly restless. Before long, I knew from ample experience, the dark thoughts would begin demanding entrance into my consciousness once more. I really hated the holidays.

Imagine my surprise when my doorbell suddenly pierced through the deafening silence of my room. Motoki was still in the middle of his shift, so I knew it couldn't be him barring some unknown catastrophe. No one else knew my address as far as I was aware. The second ring further piqued my interest, and I stood up from my couch and placed the half-empty mug of coffee on the table nearby.

A third ring followed louder and longer than the first two, and with it came a voice that stopped me dead in my tracks about two feet from my closed door.

"Minako-chan, open up! It's me!" The voice was high-pitched and reminded me of those holiday bells that had always caused me such a headache. Indeed my head _was_ swimming, but certainly not from annoyance…

The voice was deeper, of course. Ten years would do that to a person. I found myself almost unable to breathe as images of a certain tiny blond-haired girl presented themselves like a slideshow in my brain. Memories of her smile, her touch, her words…everything came back in a rush, and it was only sheer panic that kept me from breaking down my own door right there and then.

Could it be…?

I opened the door, and as blue met blue in a startling clash of gazes, all doubts as to her identity fled my mind. My angel had finally re-appeared after all these wretched years, and I found myself all but trembling in her presence.

I opened my mouth, but my vocal chords had conveniently decided to stop working.

"You're not Minako…" Her face flushed, and she squinted at the half-crumbled piece of paper in her hand. My eyes hungrily followed hers and barely made out the scratches on the paper, which seemed to form an address. "Oops, I'm supposed to be on the twelfth floor, not tenth." Her cheeks were the most delightful shade of pink, and I memorized her perfectly round face, her eyes, her rosebud mouth… The years had been incredibly kind to her.

"Gomen, I got the wrong floor. Didn't mean to bother you!"

My mind snapped out of its Usagi-induced haze when I realized that she was leaving me.

"Wait, Usagi…" I hoped that didn't sound too desperate, but that this point I was fairly certain I'd fall to my knees and beg her to stay if that would change anything.

She froze, her back to me as I again found it impossible to breathe. I needed to see her face again, needed to see whether…did she not…?

She turned around, and I wanted to cry out as soon as I saw the confusion and unmistakable dash of fear in her eyes. She really didn't…

"I'm sorry, but…how do you know my name?"

She really didn't remember me.

* * *

_Well, there you have it! I didn't mean for the beginning to be that angsty, but poor Mamo really just brings that out… Anyway, next chapter should be out around New Year's. I promise there will be some holiday fluff to come! :) As always, please leave me a quick review at the end. I'd love to hear from you!_

_This story was written and posted December 2014. _


	2. Remembrance Chapter 1

_Title: Remembrance_

_Author: Lisa_

_Chapter: 1_

_Rating: PG  
_

_Author's Notes:_

_Here's the next chapter of "Remembrance!" Special thanks to __**GraphicsChyk**__, __**mae-E**__, __**animegirl73**__, and __**Syulai**__ for your kind reviews. Enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts at the end!_

_Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

* * *

"I—" I swallowed to rid myself of the sizeable lump that had formed in my throat. In all these years, all those wistful fantasies in which I'd played out the circumstances of our reunion in excruciating detail, never once had I mentally prepared myself for my current predicament. I had expected her eyes to light up with unexpected recognition and nostalgic fondness—had secretly hoped that she'd confess thinking about me with some frequency. I could've handled it even if she'd admitted that I had not crossed her mind in years. Yet to have my existence erased from her memory altogether…

I felt traitorous tears burn the corners of my eyes and blinked them back with a sudden rush of anger. I hadn't cried in years, and I wasn't about to start now in front of the girl who had forgotten me.

"Gomen," I spoke finally, my voice barely above a whisper, "I thought you were someone else. Someone I knew a long time ago."

I was relieved as the fear dissipated from her magnificently blue eyes, now replaced entirely with confusion.

"You mean you know—or knew—someone else named Usagi?" It sounded a bit ridiculous when she put it like that, but she certainly couldn't have been the _only_ Usagi in the entirety of Japan, right?

"Hai," I lied, "what a coincidence, ne?" I shifted uncomfortably under her half-disbelieving gaze. "Anyway, it's no problem. The elevators are to the left and will take you where you need to go."

"Oh…" she said softly, momentarily distracted, and my heart skipped a beat. She shook her head slightly and crumbled the small slip of paper in her palm. "Arigato. Have a good day."

"You too." I dared to take one last hungry glance at Usagi, memorizing her delicate features with frantic speed. "Happy holidays." Ignoring every fiber of my being screaming for me to stop, I reached over to close the door on the one good thing in my past that now proved to be my biggest disappointment.

"Wait." My fingers froze over the wooden frame. "It's silly, but…" She bit her lip in hesitation. I drank in the sight, wondering how the simple gesture could have such a maddening effect on me. "Well, I think it's a bit unfair that you know my name now, and I don't know yours." She looked at me shyly from beneath her long eyelashes, and I chuckled despite myself.

"It's Mamoru," I volunteered.

"Mamoru…" I loved the sound of my name on her lips.

She seemed to toy with the information; how I wished at that moment to be privy to the inner workings of that beautiful head of hers. After the longest minute of my life, she graced me with a smile that blinded me with its brightness. "Happy holidays to you too, Mamoru."

Usagi turned and all but skipped toward the elevator, and I gazed longingly at her petite frame for as long as I could before getting caught. The click of the closing door resounded hollowly about the confines of my apartment. Alone again. My legs carried me mechanically to the couch, and I sunk on the cushions with a groan.

She didn't remember me. She had said always, but apparently only I was foolish enough to take her words to heart. I gritted my teeth as images of her youthful smiling face flashed before me. She had looked at me with such inviting warmth, such pure sincerity that only made the present reality all the more painful.

I jumped up and grabbed my coat. Poor Motoki would have to deal with my gloominess twice this afternoon.

* * *

I nodded in gratitude as Motoki wordlessly refilled my cup. My nerves were long shot from over-caffeination, but I didn't care. It was a small price to pay considering the alternative, where I would've likely found myself curled up on my bed in a useless ball of agony.

"So you're telling me she just…didn't remember? At all?" I sighed. Just how many times did Motoki insist on asking me that question?

"Like I said, there was nothing. No recognition…I was a complete stranger to her." My trembling hands clenched the mug.

"Careful there, Mamoru." Motoki eyed his mug nervously, and I loosened my grip with an apologetic glance. "Okay, so she didn't remember. And you're positive it was the same Usagi?"

"How many Usagis do you know, Motoki?" I responded wryly before I closed my eyes tiredly, her face taunting me. "It was her. She's even more beautiful now as a young woman, but her face…her eyes…"

"Mamoru," he said, and I met his green eyes after hearing the worry in his voice. "The way you talk about her, it—it's not very healthy." My eyes narrowed instinctively, and he raised his hands in reconciliation. "All I'm saying is…I know she meant a lot to you, but…there are other girls. Plenty of them, I'd imagine, who'd love it if you'd so much as looked their way…" He trailed off, and I massaged my now throbbing temples.

"Motoki…"

"It's your life," he sighed, "I'm just your rambling best friend. But can you at least spend New Year's with Reika and me? I'd hate to have you sitting in the dark thinking who knows what kind of depressing thoughts."

I laughed a little. Now, more than ever, I was thankful to have Motoki in my life. "Deal."

He grinned, then furrowed his brow no doubt due to some sobering thought. I sipped my coffee and waited patiently until Motoki inevitably spoke his mind.

"Say Mamoru," he said carefully, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what he had to say. "With Usagi…so that's it?"

"What do you mean?" The pain that had temporarily abated now slammed into me with surprising force, leaving me almost breathless.

"I mean, you're not going to try and jog her memory, or at least try and see her again?"

"What's the point?" I asked sadly. "If she doesn't remember, then she probably doesn't _want_ to remember. Why would I force something on her that she doesn't want?"

"She was only five then," he pointed out, and liking that train of thought, eagerly continued, "and how much do we really remember at five? I doubt she's purposely blocking you from her memory."

"You're saying you remember nothing from when you were five?"

He faltered. "Part of it," he conceded, "but you have to admit things are fuzzy from back then."

"I wouldn't know," I answered quietly and saw the color immediately drain from Motoki's face.

"Oh Mamoru, I'm so sorry. That was completely insensitive of me." I didn't begrudge him. It wasn't his fault that I only possessed memories of half my life, after all.

"Don't worry about it," I said as gently as I could. "I've taken up enough of your time today. Thanks for listening." He was still frowning, and I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I mean it."

Having succeeding in depressing another living soul for the day, I decided it was best I made my exit before I could do any further damage.

* * *

That was how I found myself fretting over the buttons on my elevator half an hour later. I _should_ have pressed "10," returned to my apartment to wallow in my self-misery, and tried to erase the one streak of light in my otherwise black existence. I _should_ have tried to forget her as she had forgotten me.

Instead, the ding of the elevator signaled my rather shameful arrival on the twelfth floor. As the doors slid open, I hesitated, fully aware that my next actions were likely the ones of a madman. Yet that didn't stop me from walking down the hall, scanning the numbers on the doors until I found my destination: the same apartment number, only two floors higher, which housed a certain "Minako" who I now sought out to further feed into my insanity. I wasn't sure what exactly I was looking to achieve in speaking to Usagi's friend. Perhaps I just wanted some window into Usagi's world, some tantalizing glimpse into how she had spent her years surrounded by loving friends and family.

It wasn't until after I'd pressed the doorbell that I realized Usagi might still be with Minako. It seemed like forever had passed since my chance meeting with her, but a quick glance at my watch revealed that only two hours had actually gone by. Panic shot through my veins like electricity and left me trembling.

"Coming!" I heard a cheerful voice shout from through the closed door and swallowed nervously. I had a few seconds to run. Perhaps I'd still make it to the stairway in time, perhaps…

I came face to face with a slight girl with blond hair and bright blue eyes. Minako bore such an initial resemblance to Usagi that I could only stare with my mouth slightly open as she peered curiously at her unfamiliar visitor. This was a mistake, I thought frantically. I had made a mistake and needed a miracle to get out of this mess with some shred of dignity intact.

"Can I help you?" she asked kindly, and I dearly hoped she didn't notice my quickly reddening face. I took small comfort in the fact that at least Usagi no longer seemed to be with her.

"No, I'm sorry, I…" I was rapidly losing my mind. "I'm truly sorry to bother you." I turned to leave but was stopped by her firm grasp on my wrist. I drew in a sharp breath at the unexpected contact, and she pulled away immediately.

"Please, wait," she said, her eyes searching for answers that I wasn't quite prepared to give. "You're Mamoru, aren't you?"

"How did you—"

"Usagi-chan mentioned that she'd accidentally gone to the wrong floor and ended up disturbing, in her words, 'a drop dead gorgeous guy named Mamoru with stormy blue eyes.' I can only assume she meant you."

Minako grinned, and I no longer cared what shade of crimson my face had become as my battered heart beat wildly in my chest. Usagi didn't remember me, but at least she didn't find me disgusting. That was something, I suppose. "So how can I help you, Mamoru-san?"

"I—"

Perhaps it was the way she spoke, with such openness and empathy. Perhaps it was her uncanny resemblance to Usagi, with those sparkling eyes that drew me in inexplicably. Likely it was her closeness to Usagi, an intimacy that I would have given anything to have. Whatever the reason, the words soon spilled from my lips like a waterfall that had been dammed for too long. Over steaming cups of tea (luckily for me, Minako wasn't a coffee drinker so I was spared from the lure of that intoxicating substance), I recounted the accident that left me a memory-less orphan, the initial days at the hospital, my brief time with Usagi, and the last decade that I'd spent dreaming of my tiny angel.

Minako turned out to be a great listener, who'd kept silent throughout my pitiful story save for a few well-placed sighs and gasps. At the end, she wordlessly put a warm hand on mine, and I was oddly comforted by her simple touch.

"If I have this right, then, you've loved Usagi-chan for the better part of a decade. But it seems that she…doesn't remember you exist," Minako surmised bluntly.

Love…all this time, I'd never once admitted even to myself that I loved Usagi. I couldn't deny it. In the beginning, perhaps, I had loved her as a friend, someone to whom I could share my darkest fears. Over the years, however, I grew from loving Usagi to being _in _love with her, fueled by those few precious memories that I clung to with startling intensity. Yet in confessing all this to Minako, I came to the sad realization that I knew next to nothing about the girl that I pined for. I wanted to know more, was desperate to know more, to know _her_…but was that fair to her?

"Has she ever—has she ever mentioned anything about me? I mean, anything about her time in the hospital?" Any trace that she remembered those few days which had permanently shaped me would suffice.

Minako shook her head slowly, and I couldn't help my sigh of disappointment. "We've been friends for a couple years now, but…no, I don't think she has. Gomen..."

"It's probably better that way," I said quietly. "I'm not…I'm not the most cheerful person to be around, if you haven't noticed already."

She laughed, and I caught myself wondering if Usagi's laugh also sounded so carefree. "I think Usagi-chan's cheerful enough for the both of you." Her eyes grew serious as she considered her next words. "I think you should tell Usagi-chan. She'd like to know, I'm sure of it."

"No," I cringed at the desperation that dripped from my voice, "please don't. Please. I didn't tell you any of this so you could…" I ran a hand through my tousled hair in frustration. "I don't know, _force_ her to remember or anything like that. I just…"

"Mamoru-san, I won't say anything if you don't want me to." Minako fortunately silenced my nearly incoherent speech. "But the way she talked about you earlier, you'd think she was half in love already."

I held my breath, not daring myself to hope.

"Even if she doesn't remember your history…is that any reason to not give her a chance now?"

"Minako, it's me that doesn't deserve her, not the other way around."

"You're impossibly stubborn, you know that?" She crossed her arms in annoyance.

I smiled bitterly. "My best friend Motoki tells me that all the time."

"Then will you see her again?" At my silence, she scratched her head thoughtfully, then her eyes lit up like a flame of blue fire roaring to life. "Tomorrow Usagi-chan, some other friends, and I are all going to a new arcade downtown. Our old spot closed down last month, so we were going to give the Crown Arcade a try."

I could hardly believe my ears. Was Minako now trying to set me up with Usagi? Did she really think it was that simple, that somehow we'd meet, somehow I'd convince her to love me, and we would live happily ever after? Couldn't she see by now that I wasn't some prince charming come to sweep my angel off her feet?

"Motoki works there," was all I managed to say to her ridiculous proposal, "but Minako…"

"Perfect!" She seemed mightily pleased with her plan, and I bit back a retort before I cast a dark cloud over another person who only wished me well.

"I have to go." I stood up and flashed her my half-hearted attempt at a smile. "Arigato for the tea and…for your time."

"See you tomorrow then?"

I shifted uncomfortably but couldn't bear to lie to her outright. "We'll see."

I just had maintain my resolve not to step foot into the Crown tomorrow.

* * *

_Chapter 1 complete! I'll work on getting the next chapter, along with a chapter to "Shipwrecked," out soon. Until then, have a very happy New Year!_

_This story was written and posted January 2015. _


	3. Remembrance Chapter 2

_Title: Remembrance_

_Author: Lisa_

_Chapter: 2_

_Rating: PG_

_Author's Notes:_

_Chapter 2 of "Remembrance" is here! Many thanks to my kind reviewers so far, I really appreciate it. Enjoy, and don't forget to drop me a quick review at the end!_

_Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

* * *

So much for maintaining my resolve. I had tried, truly I did, had even gone so far as to write and stick a note on my door reminding me not to step foot outside my apartment during the hours that Usagi, Minako, and the rest of their friends would supposedly be at the arcade. As the hours and seconds ticked by, however, I found my determination weakening by the near-insatiable urge just to see her again. I didn't even need to interact with her in any meaningful way. One glance at her smiling face was all that was required to calm my frazzled nerves (all the while realizing how pathetic that sounded even in my own internal musings).

That was how I found myself standing like a prize idiot outside the doors of the Crown, peering in with an air of feigned calm. In reality, my heart was beating so loudly I was sure the passersby on the sidewalk who were presently shooting me strange looks could hear. After scanning the heads of various clusters of patrons in the uncharacteristically busy venue, I spotted their group. Usagi's odango-shaped hairstyle was unmistakable, even with her back thankfully facing the entrance. I gazed at her through the glass door, watching as her head bobbed in laughter and catching the barest trace of her lips as she paused to take a sip of water. I suddenly hoped the girls would decide to come here regularly. At least then I could get my daily fix of Usagi, even if from afar.

Deciding that I had lingered there long enough, I prepared to turn and walk away quietly before anyone I knew had noticed my presence. Sadly, my plan soon backfired when Minako "just so happened" to look toward the entrance and catch me in the midst of my "stealthy" departure. She immediately jumped up, a bright smile of pleasure and something I couldn't quite describe lighting up her face as she ran toward me with surprising speed. I was frozen in my tracks, and before I even had time to blink, she had grabbed a hold of my arm and was now pulling me toward my clueless angel.

"You have great timing, Mamoru-san," Minako said happily as she shifted her seat at the table closer to the blue-haired girl beside her and expertly placed an empty chair next to herself, "we just got here a few minutes ago and were still deciding what to order." I dared to sneak a glance at Usagi from across the table and saw that her face had mysteriously turned a shade of light pink. Maybe she felt uncomfortable having me there; after all, I was just some random stranger who—in her mind, at least—she'd just briefly met yesterday.

"Arigato, Minako, but I'd hate to intrude on your group," I demurred politely and began standing up from my seat.

"Please stay." Usagi's voice was so quiet I barely caught the words, yet she very well could have screamed them at the top of her lungs to have the same effect. I fell back into my seat as if commanded, my face now burning and, I suspected, the same shade of pink as Usagi's.

"Oh, how rude of me!" Minako exclaimed suddenly. "You haven't met the other girls yet." She proceeded to point and offer a brief introduction for each. "That's Ami-chan. She's a certified genius and loves textbooks almost as much as Usagi loves her manga." I nodded and offered a small smile. I was never the best at meeting new people, but something about being introduced to whom were clearly Usagi's closest friends made the experience less intimidating. _This _was the window to Usagi's life that I had hoped, yet had never expected, to be able to peer into. "Over there's Rei-chan. She can tell the future." Minako nodded proudly, while the raven-haired girl in question groaned.

"Minako-chan, how many times do I have to tell you that's _not_ what I do? You make me sound like a freak or something," Rei muttered angrily before flashing me a wide smile. "Rumor has it you're 'drop dead gorgeous.'" She gave me a once over, and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, unaccustomed to blatant female attention in such close proximity. "For once, the rumors are true."

"Rei-chan." Usagi's face had gone from light pink to deep crimson in a matter of seconds. I remembered Usagi's description of me, as retold by Minako, and couldn't help but feel my heart soar. In fact, I couldn't recall the last time it felt this light.

"This is Mako-chan, the best chef in town." Minako winked. "She makes exceptionally delicious cookies if you're ever interested." 'Mako-chan' was the tallest girl in the group with dark brown hair and sparkling green eyes. I could tell that anyone who hurt Usagi or the other girls would likely have to her to contend with.

"And finally, you know Usagi-chan, of course." Usagi lifted her eyes to mine, and I could with absolute seriousness say that if the world around us had come crashing down in that moment, I doubt I would've noticed. I had missed that gaze so much these past years, and each warm look she gave me only left me ravenous for more.

"I have to say, Usagi-chan," Rei's teasing voice broke through the haze that descended upon me as soon as Usagi's eyes had locked onto mine, "who would be absentminded enough to walk to the wrong apartment in broad daylight?"

Usagi opened her mouth, a retort at the ready, but was rudely interrupted by the always "impeccably timed" Motoki who had come to take our orders.

"And what can I get you lovely ladies this fine…oh, Mamoru." He scratched his head, looking deeply confused as to how I of all people would end up sitting with a group of five—and admittedly all very attractive—young women. His eyes fell on Usagi, and I could almost see the mental gymnastics at work in his brain. "Oh…oh!" I groaned under my breath, hoping that Motoki wouldn't ruin everything. Luckily, it seemed that was all he could manage to say on the matter, and I interjected before further damage could be done.

"I'll have my usual please, Motoki," I said smoothly and presented him with my folded menu that I'd never even bothered to open.

"Sure…" He seemed to be slowly coming to after the initial shock, and I sincerely hoped that the girls would attribute his overly happy behavior to his excitement in getting new customers. "And for everyone else?"

"The milkshakes here are especially good, if you like that kind of stuff," I supplied nonchalantly after having secretly watched Usagi to see what she was planning to order. Her gaze had lingered the longest on the milkshake section, and my recommendation seemed to seal her decision.

"I'll have the triple chocolate milkshake, extra thick and with whipped cream on top, please," she said sweetly and batted her eyes at Motoki for good measure. I mentally took note of that order and stored it in my growing repertoire of all things Usagi.

"Of course." Motoki flashed Usagi his trademark smile, and I watched in dismay as she returned it with equal fervor. A part of me instantly wondered if that was the type of person she was usually attracted to—that is, the friendly, annoyingly cheerful type that always seemed to have things go their way. Not that I could ever blame Motoki for his happiness or be afraid that he would compete for Usagi's affections. Notwithstanding his long-time girlfriend Reika, Motoki was the type of friend that wouldn't even think of pursuing someone knowing my feelings toward that person. There was a reason why I trusted him above all others.

As the other girls made their orders, I reflected over the events of this afternoon. What exactly was I doing? I was now in dangerously uncharted territory, and the thought scared me more than I'd like. I had gone from clinging to sparse memories from a decade ago to meeting and sharing smiles with the angel in question in a span of just over twenty-four hours. This whirlwind had blown through all my usual barriers and walls, and I was now left feeling terribly exposed. My natural instinct was to withdrawal, to retreat back to the fortress that was safe and familiar rather than remain open and vulnerable to attack.

Yet watching her sitting mere feet across from me, so close in fact that if I were to stretch my arms, I could grasp those delicate fingers that clung loosely around her glass of water, I found myself leaving my shelter more and more, drawn out by the invitation of what may come. Was it possible, that despite her having no memories of our past, that she could still like _me _of all people? Or was it only because she had not seen me, the real me, the me that left most running in their haste not to get infected by the darkness that plagued me?

"Mamoru-san, are you alright?"

Ami's quiet voice broke the rather unpleasant turn of my thoughts, and I looked down to see that a mug of steaming coffee had at some point been placed before me.

"Hai, I'm fine," I said quickly and took a large sip of my version of liquid courage.

"I get lost in my own thoughts too," she supplied shyly, "there's just too much to wonder about and plan and imagine."

"I know exactly what you mean," I chuckled and took another swig of the dark liquid. "So what do you do to come back to reality?"

"Being friends with Usagi-chan helps," she giggled then flushed delicately, "she's very much in the present." We watched as Usagi determinedly worked on her milkshake, and the satisfied look on her face indicated that she would be back for more in the near future.

I laughed, half-mesmerized by the traces of chocolate that darkened the blond's lips, and dared myself to wonder what it would be like if…

"Say, Mamoru-san," Minako chirped beside me, luckily snapping me out of my ungentlemanly thoughts, "did you have any plans for New Year's?" I fumbled with my words just as Motoki came into earshot with my free refill of coffee.

"I—"

"He doesn't really," Motoki interjected smoothly while my face turned red. "Well, I guess dinner at my family's, but he didn't really want to go to that anyway." Motoki winked quickly at me, and I wondered if he even knew the definition of subtlety. He might as well have announced that I would be dying to join the girls for whatever event Minako was hinting at.

"Why not both? I was going to host a small party at my apartment. Just us, a few friends from school, and any guests they might bring. You two are both invited; feel free to stop by after your dinner!"

I could only describe the rush of emotions from Minako's casual invitation as something akin to terrified exhilaration. I normally hated parties and other loud gatherings, which usually ended with me sulking in the most secluded area available while Motoki chatted up various strangers and made acquaintances as if his life depended on it. I never understood why, given that he definitely didn't have a shortage of friends, but I suppose that summed up our different personalities pretty effectively. On the other hand, this party meant that Usagi would be there, likely in a dress and looking more breathtaking than anyone should have a right to, possibly even willing to dance with me…not that I was particularly well-versed in that area, but that was beside the point.

As I battled with my conflicted feelings, Motoki was busy accepting the invitation on both our behalves. So it was quickly settled that Motoki, Reika and I would head over as soon as our dinner was over. Armed with his victory, Motoki all-but-skipped away to serve his next customer while I glared at his unsuspecting back. He was going to get an earful tonight on why it was never advisable to meddle in my social life (or lack thereof).

I was more than happy to spend the next hour or so listening to the girls' lively chatter and plans for gift shopping while sneaking periodic glances at the blond beauty in my direct line of sight. I'd like to think she also looked my way on more than one occasion, but perhaps that was wishful thinking on my part.

Before long, however, the afternoon was drawing to a close, as the girls had to return to their respective families for dinner. I felt the familiar twinge as we slid from our seats and headed toward the main counter to pay. Everyone else had someone to return home to, whereas I literally had no memory of what that felt like…

Lost in my thoughts as always, I nearly jumped at the feeling of a warm hand on my arm. "Mamoru-san, I'm glad you came today." Her eyes were what I could only describe as cautiously hopeful, but for what, I didn't dare guess.

"I had fun," I smiled and meant it. For once, I felt energized rather than the drained feeling that would usually settle in as soon as I left a gathering. For once, I didn't want this day to end.

* * *

Minako and I ended up walking home together in almost complete silence. I wasn't used to this quiet version of Minako, and part of me expected her to tell me something had gone horribly wrong. Maybe she had seen what I was really like and was trying to find a polite way to tell me not to come to her party—in fact, not to see Usagi ever again. _That _I was used to. What I wasn't used to, however, was how she next beseeched me.

"Mamoru-san, promise me you'll give this a real chance. Don't…" she paused, as if struggling for the right words, "don't push her away, okay?" She had apparently been watching me the entire afternoon and could see the hesitation that plagued me every time I allowed myself to speak to Usagi or accept her smile.

"Do you really think someone like me could deserve someone like her?" We had gone into the building at this point and were now riding the elevator up to our respective floors. The elevator signaled the arrival to my floor with a loud ding, but my legs remained glued to the floor as I waited for her answer with bated breath.

"You know what I think, Mamoru-san? I think you're a man running away from happiness."

I barely heard the second ding of the elevator as it closed in my face. I had meant to ask her, was it really running from happiness if you already knew that the outcome would be decidedly unhappy? I seemed to have a knack for sucking the joy out of everything I touched—could I truly, honestly believe that this time would be any different?

* * *

_Well, this fic is turning out to be quite angsty, isn't it? As you've seen in my more recent stories, I seem to have a thing for Mamo-angst, I guess. Anyway, hope you enjoyed; I wasn't really expecting to update this story in particular, but I was randomly inspired! My goal is to finish this fic by New Year's 2016, so please stay tuned. I expect this'll have a couple more chapters and a short epilogue. Until then, please review! :)_

_This story was written and posted September 2015._


	4. Remembrance Chapter 3

_Title: Remembrance_

_Author: Lisa_

_Chapter: 3_

_Rating: PG_

_Author's Notes:_

_Here is Chapter 3! Please let me know your thoughts at the end, and happy Thanksgiving!_

_Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

* * *

I spent the better part of the night transfixed by the changing numbers on my alarm clock. The minutes ticked into hours, relentless in their countdown toward another inevitable sunrise. As the first rays of light threatened to seep through my closed blinds, I groaned and threw my blanket over my head in frustration. The truth was this: ever since Usagi had nearly broken my doorbell in her haste to see someone who was decidedly _not_ me, I hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Who needed a dream angel when the real one had magically re-appeared at my doorstep, brighter, more captivating, and more unobtainable than ever?

Fate was playing a cruel joke on me, I had decided sometime between three or four in the morning. How many times had I fantasized that Usagi would return one day? How many times had I replayed our subsequent conversation in my head, tweaking a word here and an expression there until I had finally it…the perfect reunion. And appeared she did – the only catch was that our fairy-tale reunion had now been relegated into a forced introduction. Silly me. I had been fate's puppet for so long. Why had I thought I could break free from its strings?

Minako was wrong. I wasn't running away from happiness because that happiness could never exist now, not for me. The fact was that I could not be happy knowing what I knew and knowing what she didn't. It was deception, pure and simple, like being privy to a secret that the other person didn't even know existed, but one that, for better or for worse, would color all our future interactions. I would forever see Usagi through the lens of my eight year old self, and that wasn't the least bit fair to her. She didn't need to unknowingly shoulder the burden of being my lifeline.

* * *

The December wind gleefully nipped at my cheeks and fingers as I slowly walked down the sidewalk, halfheartedly gazing into the small stores lining the street while narrowly avoiding collision with various passersby, their arms full with the fruits of their holiday shopping spree. Somewhere in the midst of my Usagi-induced daze, I had realized that tomorrow was in fact New Year's Eve, and I had not one but two social engagements to attend no thanks to Motoki. Although I still maintained that I had never _formally_ accepted Minako's invitation.

A quick inspection of the contents of my cupboard had confirmed that I had nothing presentable to bring to either event, which had prompted my unwilling foray into the busy streets of Tokyo. A nice fruit basket should do for Motoki's mother, I mused with a silent nod. She had always been partial to those edible assortments based on previous experience (I was the first to admit I hadn't a creative bone in my body when it came to gift giving). But Minako's party was another story….maybe it wasn't too late to cancel…

"Mamoru-san?" I started with surprise at the familiar voice and almost knocked the unsuspecting blond over with the speed by which I turned to face her.

"Usagi," I barely managed to choke out as my fight or flight response kicked in with full force. I felt the adrenaline spiral through my body like liquid fire, ramping my heart into overdrive and shooting into my legs until I could barely feel them. "What – what are you doing here?"

I cringed as soon as the words came out. Of course she had every right to be shopping there as I had (even more so, I'd venture, given my distaste for any kind of holiday cheer). The better question was perhaps why fate now had nothing better to do than throwing us together. I had spent ten long years looking past my shoulder and desperately wishing that the next petite blond I saw would be _her_; now, however, she appeared without warning, as if taunting me with the futility of my once-fervent hopes.

"Just doing a bit of window shopping," she replied lightly. She was clothed in a light pink puffy jacket and thick grey tights that hugged every inch of her slender legs. Her odangos were unfortunately covered by a fur-lined hood, but a few strands of hair had fallen free from her admittedly unconventional (though fully adorable) hairstyle and framed her small face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes made all the more vibrant by their slight glassiness from the cold. She was, in a single word, perfect.

"Ah." My reply was likely in contention for the lamest response in history, but I was too panicked at that point to formulate a more coherent answer.

"What brings you out in this weather?" She graced me with a smile, and I felt my throat constrict painfully. "I don't suppose you're window shopping too? Something strikes me as you not being that type." Another blinding smile was burned into my memory. This time, I returned the gesture weakly.

"I was looking for gifts to bring my hostesses tomorrow," I supplied hesitantly and stuffed my hands into my pockets, suddenly embarrassed. "For Motoki's mom and Minako, I mean," I supplemented quickly and darted a cautious glance her way.

"Oh! What did you have in mind?"

"I—" Five minutes alone with her—never mind the streams of people that were filing past us—and I had all but lost my ability to speak. This certainly didn't bode well.

"Would you like some company? I can help you pick out something for Minako's party at least."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother…" I trailed off pathetically.

"Who said anything about being a bother?_ I'm_ the one who's being shameless." Her tone was decidedly light, yet something about the way her cheeks flushed even redder caused my poor heart to do even more gymnastics. If she actually wanted to spend time with me, then who was I to stop that? I never claimed to be anything but selfish.

"Let's go in here then." I pointed to a nearby shop with several promising fruit baskets and floral arrangements on display in the front window. We shared a mutual sigh of satisfaction from the welcoming warmth of the shop coupled with the smell of cinnamon and fresh flowers. Usagi lowered her hood and gave her head a small shake, and I fought the almost overpowering urge to tuck away the rogue stands of hair that rested on both sides of her face. Not fully trusting my self-control at this point, I put a few strides' worth of distance between us (sadly as much as the small store could offer) and tried to focus on picking an appropriate gift basket from the formidable selection before me.

No easy feat given the distraction mere feet away, whose attention was currently held by the rose section. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat and turned away, willing myself to complete the task that I had left the safety of my apartment for. I cringed at the various bows and frills that were draped over each piece, feeling my distaste for the holidays bubble up to the surface with fresh vigor, and grabbed the least gaudy-looking basket.

Usagi was bent over a large bouquet of red roses, her nose nearly touching one of the full blooms as she inhaled its heady scent. Her eyes were closed, the barest of smiles lifting the corners of her mouth almost imperceptibly. I stood transfixed by the sight, not daring to move in fear of shattering scene before me.

"Mamoru-san, come here and look at these roses!" I obeyed—what other choice had I—and soon joined her in admiring the sea of crimson petals.

"Amazing, aren't they?" she breathed, and I drew in a breath in an attempt to get rid of the sudden fuzziness in my brain.

"Hai, amazing." I wasn't talking about the roses, but she didn't need to know that. "I'm surprised they're able to get a hold of these in the winter."

Usagi sighed happily. "Red roses have always been my favorite, ever since I was a child." I froze instantly at the mention of her childhood as the image of my tiny angel, her hand outstretched as she proudly presented me with that single red rose, pummeled my frazzled nerves and drained the blood from my face. "They've always…calmed me, if that makes any sense. Not sure why really…" She traced the outline of a silk petal wistfully before raising her eyes to mine. "Mamoru-san, are you…you look…"

"I'm fine," I said more forcefully than I had intended and immediately regretted as I saw her flinch. I shot her an apologetic glance. "Just tired. With the holidays and all…" She nodded slowly, as if searching for some hidden meaning buried in my words.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She pointed to the basket that I had almost forgotten I was still holding onto.

"Wait for me here? I just need to pay." Again that same slow nod. I walked swiftly toward the counter and paid as quickly as humanly possible. When I returned, Usagi's eyes had a faraway look that frightened me.

"Usagi…" I dared to touch her shoulder, which thankfully broke through her daze. "Shall we go? You still need to help me pick out something for Minako." I offered her a small smile that fell flat when I saw she wasn't even looking my way.

"H-Hai, let's go," she replied. Was it my imagination, or did her voice crack slightly?

We walked in silence while I replayed the last half hour of our interaction in my head, agonizing over what I might have said or done to offend her. Was it the way I had spoken to her? Or had she seen something in my eyes that troubled her, had she perhaps glimpsed the darkness and desperation that was always simmering beneath the surface?

"Mamoru-san," she started, and I stopped dead in my tracks. "I don't mean to pry, but…"

"Go on," I said in my most encouraging voice, still scrambling to regain the ease of our former interaction, "whatever you want to ask, I'm sure I won't mind."

Usagi bit her lip, completely unaware of the maddening effect it had on me and the last reins of my self-control. Her eyes darted this way and that, silently assessing our rather public location in the middle of the sidewalk. We were beginning to draw curious glances from passersby.

"Come with me."

Before I knew it, she had dragged me into an abandoned alleyway. Usagi never ceased to surprise me. She leaned again the wall, clearly struggling to voice what was bothering her. Whatever she wanted to ask, I could sense I wouldn't like it. But it was too late now.

"Why are you having dinner with Motoki's family rather than…rather than…"

"Rather than with my own, you mean?"

"Gomen," she apologized immediately, "that's horribly nosy and rude of me. Of course, you don't have to answer, I mean, why would you? You hardly know me..."

I put a finger to her lips before she continued in her guilty rambling. "Usagi. I told you I didn't mind, didn't I?" I exhaled a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

Once upon a time, I had sought to protect a five-year-old Usagi from the truth because I hadn't trusted her strong enough to handle it. She had appeared so innocent back then as she beseeched me with those sky-blue eyes. Those same blue eyes, as clear as a cloudless summer day, now pierced themselves into my very core as I came face to face with the same dilemma. I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

"My family isn't here anymore, Usagi."

She fumbled with my words. "You mean, they aren't here in Japan, or…" She couldn't even bring herself to voice the second option, but the implication was clear.

"The latter, I'm afraid," I managed to say. Whatever her reaction would be, whatever I did next, I had to maintain composure. I couldn't break down, not here, not now. "So there you have it."

"Mamoru-san…"

"It was a long time ago," I supplied quickly, as if that somehow made everything better. What did people say—that time heals all wounds? They conveniently forget to mention the scars that are left behind, which never disappear no matter how much they fade.

I didn't see Usagi move, but her arms were around me suddenly, desperately gripping my torso with surprising force. She next buried her face into my coat, right above my heart, and I swore she could hear those traitorous beats that revealed just how much she moved me.

"Arigato, Mamoru-san," she murmured into my chest, "for sharing that with me." She pulled away to face me, and I touched the wetness on her cheeks with trembling fingers. "But you must know, surely you must, that you're not alone."

I couldn't remember the last time I had even come close to crying. Yet in that drafty alleyway, staring into those glassy orbs, I could feel the first pricks of hot tears in the corner of my eyes. I blinked them away and laughed shakily. She was my angel and she wasn't at the same time—how was I ever to make sense of that?

"Someone else told me that," I offered ruefully, "someone I used to know…a lifetime ago…"

"Well that someone was pretty smart, I'd say."

I chuckled at the irony. "Hai, I'd say she was."

"In all seriousness though…if you ever need someone to talk to, you have me." She smiled warmly, and I blessed the two small dimples on her cheeks. "Always."

_Always, always, always._

"I'll remember that."

The problem was that I had always remembered her promise. She had not. Yet the line between then and now was quickly crumbling before me, and I hadn't the energy or desire to stop it.

* * *

_I'm thinking there will be two more chapters and a short epilogue – bear with me, the end is in sight! :) Please let me know what you think!_

_This story was written and posted November 2015._


	5. Remembrance Chapter 4

_Title: Remembrance_

_Author: Lisa_

_Chapter: 4_

_Rating: PG_

_Author's Notes:_

_Thanks so much to my reviewers for the last chapter – you're the best! Please enjoy Chapter 4 and keep the feedback coming! :)_

_Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

* * *

I lied to her again. I was always lying to her, entangling both of us deeper and deeper into my web of deceit until I could hardly see the surface.

_We had just stepped outside the sweets shop with a formidable box of assorted chocolates in hand, which Usagi had assured me would be a big hit at Minako's party; I was more than happy to take her word for it. Having successfully completed my only pressing task for the day, I now focused all my attention on the uncharacteristically silent blond walking beside me._

"_Arigato," I said gently, so as not to startle her from her thoughts, "for keeping me company today. And for listening. I know I'm not the…well, the easiest person to be around, I guess you could say." That was a gross understatement, but I was more interested in her response._

"_That's funny, because…" She paused and shot a hesitant glance my way, and my heart did a somersault in my chest. "Because whenever I'm around you, it feels…I don't know…right. Comforting. Like…like I've known you for a very long time." She sighed and shook her head as if to clear it. "You must think I'm crazy."_

_If some stranger had come by and punched me in the stomach in that instant, I doubt that would've felt worse than the sudden nausea that gripped me. She was imploring me with those blue eyes, searching for the truth that I wasn't sure existed anymore._

"_I don't think you're crazy," was my pathetic response. Enchanting, mesmerizing, blinding in her radiance and warmth, but not crazy. That was reserved for me and the dangerous game that I couldn't stop playing._

"_Then tell me please." I found myself floating in that endless expanse of sky-blue, drifting as close to heaven as I could ever dare hope to reach. "Have we met before?"_

_It was a simple question with no simple answer. I was at a crossroads with two dead ends, left to pick my poison all the while those eyes continued burning into me, relentless in their sincerity. If I said "yes," I would have admitted to willful deception. I would have had to explain that not only had we previously met, but also that I had been dreaming of our fairytale reunion since the moment she had promised me "always." How could she trust me again knowing that I had recognized her the second I had opened my door to her startled face, then had proceeded to carry on for days acting like we were strangers? If I said "no," then I would keep dragging her along in this unspeakably selfish charade. _

_And worse even—what if despite my denial, by some cruel act of fate, our current encounters would unlock those elusive memories from the innermost corners of her brain—would she hate me then? A string of bad decisions culminating in an impossible choice, and I hadn't anyone but myself to blame._

"_I would've remembered if we had," I replied finally, unable to meet her gaze. Technically I had spoken no falsehood. I did, in fact, remember every word, every look, every touch, every smile. I was like a starving man salivating over the memories of his last glorious feast, even while they left him ever more ravenous. Yet even I couldn't delude myself into thinking I had spoken the truth. A lie by omission and evasion was as powerful as one spoken outright._

"_Hai, you'd think I would too." She bit her lip thoughtfully. We were at the door of my apartment building at that point. I watched, unwilling to make even the slightest movement, as she cupped one hand to my right cheek and held it there. "You'd think I'd remember those eyes."_

_I was in freefall, desperately grasping onto those few sweet, sweet seconds before the inevitable crash that would break me. _

"_Usako, I—" Her hand slipped back to her side just as my own hand came up to silence my traitorous lips. It had just come out, had escaped from my mouth at the first lowering of the barriers that I had so carefully constructed—those walls that she had obliterated with the softness of her fingers caressing my cheek with maddening tenderness. I surprised myself with my own audacity, and judging from her bewildered expression, had given her a great shock as well. _

"_Mamo—"_

"_Gomen, this was a mistake," I mumbled and all but ran through the automatic doors before she had a chance to get another word in. _

_Some knight in shining armor I made._

I groaned and slid further into my sofa, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow me whole like a scene in some cheap horror movie. I stared blankly at the gift basket and box of chocolates on my coffee table—fresh reminders of my shame—and tried to pinpoint where it had gone horribly wrong. Not only had I deceived the poor girl again. No, I had to go and ruin it all by showing all my cards. I might as well have ripped out my heart and presented it to her on a platter judging by the look of astonishment on her face. At least I hadn't given it enough time for her face to contort into disgust; _that_ I wasn't sure I could bear. Usako…who was I kidding?

I swore I could hear fate laughing at me just now.

* * *

Apparently my body couldn't handle three nights of total sleep deprivation. I must've fallen asleep somewhere in the midst of my marathon anger and self-loathing session. I now awoke to streams of sunlight on my face and a dull ache in my neck from sleeping at an unnatural angle on my couch. I'd accidentally gone and slept away half the morning and had nothing but a pounding headache to show for it. Half-stumbling into the kitchen, I made a beeline for the coffeemaker and clenched my mug with fumbling desperation while the coffee brewed. It took several sips of the steaming liquid before I began to feel like a semblance of my normal self. After a full cup of the stuff in my system, I had almost convinced myself that things weren't as dire as I'd made them out to be last night. I mean, it wasn't like I _had_ to show my face at the party tonight, right…?

The loud rings of the telephone nearly caused me to drop my favorite mug. After securing it on the kitchen counter, I made my way toward the offending sound, having already guessed at the caller's identity before even answering the phone. I could count on one hand the number of people who had my number, and out of those select few, only one called me regularly.

"Moshi moshi." I made sure to use my most annoyed voice.

"Well, good morning to you too. Sounds like someone hasn't had his coffee yet." I smiled despite myself.

"About to have my second cup, actually," I countered smoothly.

"Jeez Mamoru, how many times have I told you to dial it back a bit on the caffeine?" That was Motoki in a nutshell: concerned friend, scolding parent, sounding board, and brooding buddy all rolled into one (though I must admit that _he_ never brooded—that was all me while he would go on about "seeing the bright side").

"Then you need to stop giving me those free refills."

"That's…erm…beside the point. Anyway—" Motoki paused, and I could tell he was finally coming around to the _real_ reason he was calling. "You're still coming tonight, right?"

"I'll be there at seven," I affirmed, "with obligatory gift basket in tow."

"Great." He stopped again, and I could picture him squirming a bit in his seat. "And afterward…?"

I tensed immediately, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks at the thought of my embarrassing slip of the tongue and cowardly escape shortly thereafter. "Can we talk about it at dinner?" I rubbed my temples tiredly. The headache was returning with a vengeance thanks to Motoki's meddling.

"Uh-oh. What happened?" I imagined him sitting up, suddenly alert as he pressed the phone just a bit closer to his ear to get his fill of the latest episode in the depressing saga that was my life. To his credit, I knew that his eagerness stemmed from a genuine concern for my general sanity and well-being. Motoki hadn't a mean bone in his body as far as I could tell.

"Pretty sure she hates me now," I mumbled almost incoherently. Perhaps 'hate' was too strong of a word, but certainly she didn't seem thrilled at what was basically a verbal manifestation of all my hopes and desires.

"And…why do you think she hates you? We're talking about Usagi, right? Did she actually say the words 'I hate you?'" Motoki was getting on my nerves now with his weird way of questioning. He wasn't there; he didn't see the way her face distorted at hearing the forbidden endearment.

"Not exactly…"

"I'm…not really following here then, Mamoru."

I sighed and ran a hand through my tousled hair. I hadn't the energy to rehash yesterday afternoon's events in any gruesome detail. "Let's just talk tonight, alright? I'll explain everything then."

"Fine." He was growing cross with me now, as it inevitably happened with anyone who had more than minimal amounts of contact with me. Even saints must have their patience tried. "But promise me you won't go moping about the apartment today cleaning invisible dust off the shelves or rearranging your furniture or whatever it is you do when you're frustrated." Was it a crime that I liked to keep my apartment immaculate and happened to find cleaning therapeutic?

"Deal. See you tonight." I released a breath when I heard the dial tone on the other end and placed the phone back in its receiver. Sometimes I wondered why Motoki continued to put up with my moodiness after all these years.

Despite my 'deal' with Motoki, I spent the better part of the afternoon rearranging various volumes of books on my shelves until they were lined up in perfect rows. The kitchen next fell prey to my stress-induced cleaning spree; only when the marble counters gleamed dully under the fluorescent lighting was I finally satisfied.

My final project was to make sure _I _didn't show up looking haggard, which would be a slight to my gracious hostess and the closest person resembling a mother figure that I would ever know. Not to mention I would likely be seeing _her _again if Motoki had any say in the matter. And vain as it might sound, I didn't want to face her unkempt and unshaven. After a lengthy inspection of the admittedly meager contents of my closet, I settled on a dark blue button-down shirt and black trousers. Reika had complimented that the dark blue "brought out the color in my eyes" or some other flattering statement that I hadn't paid much attention to at the time. After one final assessment in the bathroom mirror, I tossed my presents into a bag and set out into the cold December evening, fully aware that, no matter what, nothing would be the same after tonight.

* * *

Motoki's mother welcomed me with a broad smile and a warm embrace. Her hair was just a bit grayer than last year, but the sparkle in her eyes was just as I had remembered.

"I hope you brought your appetite, Mamoru," she said as I stepped in from the doorway and shook her husband's hand firmly. "I made all of your favorites."

"You didn't need to go through all that trouble," I demurred politely and fumbled as I pulled her gift from my bag. "Arigato for inviting me."

"Oh Mamoru." I was enveloped in her warmth again, and wondered, not for the first time, if this was what my own mother's embrace would've felt like. I was next entreated to take off my coat. "Motoki and Reika are in the living room," she said with a wink.

The couple in question was in the midst of a hushed debate when I plopped onto the open seat next to Reika on the sofa. From their sudden guilty silence upon my arrival, it wasn't too hard to guess what their subject matter had been.

"You made me wait all day, Mamoru," Motoki spoke up first. "You probably don't want to know some of the theories I've come up with as to what happened."

"Motoki can have quite an active imagination, you know." Reika patted my leg sympathetically before shooting her boyfriend her signature 'I'm-exasperated-but-still-love-you' look.

Before I knew it, the words exploded from my mouth like a bottle of champagne that had been shaken one time too many. "I hadn't meant to say anything…but then she was looking at me like _she_ would have and her hands were on my face and I wanted so badly to believe it was _her_, that she wanted me, that something would actually work out in my favor for once in my life…"

I might as well have grown a second head by the way Motoki and Reika were gawking at me now, mouths slightly open in shock. Motoki was the first to try and tackle my word vomit.

"I'm…confused." He played with that word and decided that it fit the situation. "Very confused actually. You're saying you told her about your past with her?"

"No, I—" I was so deeply frustrated, but it wasn't Motoki's fault. I had no one to blame except myself. "I didn't…I couldn't…"

"So what exactly _did_ you say to her?"

"I called her 'Usako,'" I admitted in defeat. "As if I could ever call her mine."

Motoki broke the tension with laughter that was quickly silenced by a choice slap in the shoulder from Reika. "And…?"

"And…?"

"How did she react, man? I swear Mamoru, sometimes I just want to…" A timely glare from his girlfriend promptly halted that train of thought.

"Honestly?" I closed my eyes for a brief second and tried to conjure up her face in that instant. Her eyes had widened, her eyebrows had raised, and her cheeks had shown the beginnings of a blush as her mouth dropped open in wordless surprise. "I didn't stick around long enough to see."

"So you call the poor girl by a pet name—which is ridiculously cute by the way—and then run off without another word?" When he worded it like that, I guess it sounded a bit unfathomable. Yet then again, this entire week was like my personal comedy of errors.

"Technically it wasn't without another word," I supplied weakly with a cringe. "I think I told her it was a mistake."

"Mamoru." This time, Reika interjected before Motoki displayed another instance of foot-in-mouth syndrome. "I know you have trouble believing that people might actually like you and want to spend time with you. And it's hard, believe me I know, to let someone else in. To be vulnerable and exposed, to give that person power to hurt you. But you have to let that go, Mamoru. Let all of that hurt, pain, anger, and regret go."

I squeezed her hand, expressing my gratitude in deed what I couldn't in words.

"What she said," Motoki muttered quietly.

* * *

"Mamoru." We were standing by Minako's door, and I was seriously regretting accepting that generous second helping of dinner at that point. "You just say the word. Distraction? I'm your man. Extraction? Just give the signal. Celebration? I told you so."

"Arigato, Motoki," I said gratefully. For all the bad luck I had thrown my way over the years, I had at least been blessed with friends who supported me unconditionally and without judgment. "I don't deserve a friend like you. Truly."

"Sure you do," he replied cheerfully, "you're just too stubborn to see it. But don't worry, one day we'll drill it into that thick skull of yours." He wrapped his arm around Reika's shoulders, and she smiled encouragingly. I returned the gesture with some hesitation as the anxiety mounted in painful knots in the pit my stomach. "So are you ready for this, Mamoru?"

I doubted I ever would be, but it was time I stopped running away. "Do I have a choice?"

Motoki grinned as he pressed the doorbell. "Here's to hoping for a less grumpy Mamoru in the very near future."

* * *

_Next chapter should be fun! :) I'll try my best to get that one out over the weekend, so be on the lookout. Until then, please drop me a review!_

_This story was written and posted November 2015._


	6. Remembrance Chapter 5

_Title: Remembrance_

_Author: Lisa_

_Chapter: 5_

_Rating: PG  
_

_Author's Notes:_

_So this chapter is way late – it's now March and I'm writing about New Year's, but better late than never right…? Anyway, hope you enjoy, and drop me a review at the end!_

_Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

* * *

"You made it!"

The door swung open abruptly, and we were instantly greeted with the sight of Minako's cheerful face. She was clad in a sparkly golden dress that flattered her figure remarkably, and a matching pointy paper hat adorned the top of her head. She clapped her hands excitedly a couple times before extending one hand out to Reika as I nervously surveyed the guests already present from over her shoulder. There were at least a dozen people gathered inside, and the energy of the room was decidedly festive. I swallowed involuntarily, silently praying that my presence wouldn't cast a dark cloud over the occasion (I couldn't say it would be the first time, unfortunately).

"I'm Minako…you must be Motoki's girlfriend, yes?"

Reika seemed a bit taken aback by Minako's openness before reaching toward her awaiting hand. "Hai, I am. It's nice to meet you, Minako."

"You did well for yourself, Motoki," Minako winked not so subtly. From her familiar tone, it was as if she and Motoki had been friends forever. "She's gorgeous!"

"She never stops reminding me of it too," Motoki joked back before receiving a nudge in the arm from his girlfriend. "Thanks for having us."

"My pleasure." Minako beamed again. "Oh but where are my manners? Please come in! We already have quite a few people here. Plenty of food and drinks for everyone." She stepped aside and let our small party through the entrance. Motoki and Reika walked in and I mechanically followed suit before I felt a small pressure on my wrist that stopped me cold.

"Mamoru, can I speak to you for a minute?"

I suddenly felt too warm, the buttons on my shirt too constricting as my lungs clamored for air. Feeling as if I might suffocate, I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt while shooting a nervous glance at Motoki. He, for his part, only offered me a shrug and an encouraging thumbs up. So much for 'extraction? Just give the signal.' You'd think my desperate look for back-up would've done the trick. Instead, the couple wandered off to join a group of party-goers by the snack table while Minako cornered me by the door. I knew it was serious when she pulled me into the hallway and closed the door behind her. I exhaled deeply as the lively chatter subsided from inside subsided to a low hum and crossed my arms in front of my chest in an instinctive defensive measure.

Minako picked up on my body language and offered me a small smile to diffuse the situation. "I'm worried about Usagi-chan," she started slowly, and I felt my heart skip a beat. Of course she would be worried. What best friend _wouldn't_ worry about a man who obsessed about events from over a decade ago and clung desperately to a woman he didn't know? Wasn't that the very definition of crazy?

"Gomen," I apologized immediately, guessing that she was about to warn me to never darken Usagi's life again. It was only fair if she had, and I would never fault or think less of her for it. "If you want me to stay away from her, you don't need to tell me. I already know." My shoulders slumped, and I ran a nervous hand through my hair out of habit.

"Stay away from her?" Now she_ really_ looked at me like I had lost any tenuous grasp to sanity that I previously possessed. "What in the world are you going on about?"

"So you _don't _want me to avoid her?" I couldn't really understand what she was saying. My brain processed the words but didn't dare read into their deeper meaning.

"No, of course not." Minako sounded exasperated now, as if she were speaking to a small child.  
"I want you to talk to her, Mamoru. I don't know what exactly happened between you two yesterday, but she's besides herself. She keeps saying how she ruined it with you, how you don't want to see her again. But I know that can't be true, can it?"

I was dumbstruck as Minako spoke, hardly daring to believe…to hope. "That couldn't be farther from the truth," I whispered sadly. "The truth is…when I'm around her…" I paused, my feelings too jumbled and overpowering to shape into discernible words. That was a testament to the hold that Usagi Tsukino had over me, from ten years ago until the present day.

"That's all I needed to know." She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and I gathered some semblance of strength from the warmth of her touch. "Now go back in there and tell her exactly what you told me." She stopped and reconsidered, the corners of her mouth pulled down into a slight frown as she concentrated. "Okay, maybe not _exactly_ what you just told me, but…you get the idea."

"Arigato, Minako," I replied. I had hardly set foot into her apartment and already I felt drained. This was why I never liked parties.

* * *

I found her standing by herself on the balcony, gazing up at the crescent moon that glowed dimly among a sea of shimmering stars. She was wearing a pale blue dress that clung flawlessly to her every curve and ended just slightly above her knees. Her legs were darkened by a pair of black tights, made ever shapelier by her black heels. If there ever was a time when I found myself without any defenses or shred of self-control, tonight would be the night. In this moment, I found myself utterly exposed and at the mercy of this tiny angel.

She must've heard me approaching, because she turned around just as I slid open the glass door and stepped into the biting cold. Her expression was unreadable as I silently joined her and leaned against the railing, gazing down at the thinning crowd below.

"Usagi," I said finally, and a flint of disappointment flashed quickly before vanishing in the expanse of those sky-blue eyes once more.

"Not Usako?" She tried to joke, and I tensed immediately.

"I can explain, that was—" I started immediately but stopped mid-sentence when she shook her head with surprising force.

"What's to explain? You said it was a mistake, right?" Her eyes were desperate now, pleading, boring into me like daggers chipping away at the stone walls around my heart. "Who was I kidding? To think someone like _you_ could—" She covered her mouth as if she had said too much, and I could see tears begin to form at the corners of those blue orbs that I loved so much.

"Someone like me could…?" I was genuinely confused now. The conversation was quickly derailing into something I couldn't keep up with. My intended apology now seemed like a distant memory as I frantically tried to parse through her words for their hidden meaning. What was she really saying that she…?

"That someone like you could want me!" The words had finally exploded out of her like a volcano erupting after years of pent up pressure. Her face was deathly pale now, and she trembled visibly as she now regarded my flabbergasted expression.

"Usako…"

My arms had taken a life of their own and had scooped the shaking blond into my embrace. My right hand ran up and down the length of her back as she sobbed openly into my chest, her own arms clutching onto me with such force that I feared she might rip open my shirt from behind. I continued my soothing movements as she hiccupped and waited until her tears began to subside. I could've waited all night if she wanted. As far as I was concerned, I had all I ever wanted right there in my arms, and I would be the world's greatest fool to ever let that go again.

Usagi sniffled before bringing her tear-stained face up to meet mine. She offered me a shaky smile, one that I returned tenfold. "Gomen, I—"

"No need to apologize," I said gently. "If anything, _I'm _the one who should be sorry to have sent such mixed signals. To make you think anything to do with you could be a mistake. Do you have any idea how much I…" I stopped abruptly before I scared the poor girl. There wasn't any need to bare the deepest recesses of my soul to her tonight. Thanks to whoever above decided to give me another chance at happiness, I had all the time in the world now to show Usagi just how deeply she moved me.

"Mamo-chan…" She buried her face in my shirt again as my heart leapt at her own pet name for me. Mamo-chan…I loved it already. "You really know how to keep a girl guessing, don't you?" She giggled and slapped me playfully on the arm as she wiped the remaining remnants of tears from her cheeks. "How do I look?"

"Absolutely divine." It felt so good to finally be able to voice my attraction to her. "You look beautiful tonight, Usako."

We stayed in each other's embrace for some time, lost in our own private paradise, not caring if everyone at the party could watch our little love show through the sliding glass doors. Motoki and Reika were undoubtedly planning how best to gloat, but I was too happy to let that sour my night.

Usagi shivered slightly, and I cursed myself for forgetting how thin her dress must be. "Let's head inside, you must be freezing." I ran my fingers across her bare arms to warm them, and she beamed. To be the recipient of that dazzling smile was…indescribable. I was truly ending in the best way possible, and the new year now seemed brighter than I could have ever imagined. I didn't even care that I was starting to sound like ever-the-optimist Motoki. Love, especially reciprocated love, did that to a person I guess.

We made our way inside and stopped by the refreshments, where we sipped on some punch and watched the other couples dancing on the makeshift dance floor in Minako's living room.

"Dance with me, Mamo-chan?" With her wide, pleading eyes and slightly pouting lips, what man in his right mind could refuse such a request? Even if I otherwise despised dancing.

"Anything for my Usako," I returned smoothly, and she gave a small jump of excitement before promptly dragging me into the crowd. Apparently love was making me into a romantic too.

As we swayed slowly to the music, her head resting comfortably on my shoulder, I marveled at how a couple hours' time could change my life so dramatically for the better. I tightened my grip on her small waist and silently cheered at her barely audible sigh of contentment. Over her head, I saw Minako looking at us with a smile that rivaled Usagi's. I mouthed my thanks to her, and she gave me a victory sign that made me laugh. Minako never ceased to surprise.

"What's funny, Mamo-chan?"

"Nothing Usako," I continued chuckling. "Nothing at all."

After a few songs, Usako luckily decided she was too tired to continue dancing. Only thirty minutes remained of this year now, and my excitement grew with each passing minute that brought us closer to midnight. At midnight, if I were so lucky, if my Usako were so obliging, then just perhaps…I would finally get a taste of heaven.

"Let's go somewhere else." Her hands snapped me back from my rosy fantasies. "Would you be willing to show me your apartment?" Her tone was light, but her eyes betrayed her anxiety. As if I could deny her anything. "After all, that's how we first met, right?"

I froze at her last statement, as my omissions and deceit from the past week hit me like a bucket of ice water. I had gone from a man with nothing to lose to a man with a priceless treasure. Yet how long would I be able to hold onto this treasure? Would it be ripped away from me like everything else in my life?

"Sure," I managed to say, expertly ignoring her last sentence. "I can barely hear you in here."

Minutes later we were standing by the door to my apartment, her hand nestled securely in mine. My other hand fumbled with the keys before I heard the familiar click of the lock and pushed open the heavy door. Due to my obsessive cleaning earlier in the day, I was at least able to present Usagi with an immaculate apartment.

"Want a tour? There's not much to see."

"Please," she smiled, offering no indication that she wanted to let go of my hand. I was all too happy to oblige. She took stock of my living room, kitchen, and bathroom, noting how neat everything was for a bachelor (as Motoki never ceased to give me grief for). We finally came to my bedroom, and she surveyed the room with keen interest. Like everything else in the apartment, it was largely bare and only housed the essentials—a bed, a dresser, a nightstand. Yet something caught her eye on the nightstand, and as she walked toward it, I thought my heart might break through my ribcage and make a run for it.

Usagi picked up the small picture frame and traced her finger against the time-worn edges gently. "This is beautiful," she murmured. Her voice was distant, as if her mind were far removed from reality. "Whoever gave this rose to you must've been very important, for you to have kept it all this time."

I approached her slowly before taking the frame away from her slightly clammy grasp. "Hai," I whispered, gazing at the rose that _she_ had offered me all those years ago. I had preserved it with great care, desperately clinging to the memories of the one good thing that had come into my life at my lowest point. It was a testament to her power over me, a symbol of her permanent imprint on my soul. "She was." There was nothing else I could say.

She replaced the frame to its proper place on the nightstand before wordlessly walking toward the balcony door. I followed mechanically, my mind whirling nothing and everything at the same time. Had happiness eluded me once more, and even worse, had it escaped me only after giving me such a tantalizing taste of what could have been?

The countdown to midnight had begun, as people in the street and in various apartments in the building began chanting each passing second with increasing eagerness. I was glued to her face, trying to get any shred of clarity into what she was thinking, but her face was uncharacteristically expressionless.

_Ten, nine, eight…_

I couldn't take it anymore. "Usako, Usako," I all but pleaded as I pulled her body against mine and lowered my face toward hers, feeling the stray hairs framing her face tickle my cheeks.

_Seven, six, five…_

Usagi leaned toward me, her face suddenly reflecting a frenzy of emotions that I could hardly keep track—hope, fear, longing…recognition. "Mamo-chan."

"Stay with me?" It was half-question, half-pleading, all desire. I couldn't, wouldn't lose her a second time. Not when we were this close to finding our way back to each other again. I was entirely selfish to lay claim to her; that I would admit to without hesitation. But a part of me was simply _missing _without her, and as inconceivable as it may be, a part of her seemed to be missing without me too.

_Four, three, two, one…_

"Silly Mamoru," she said playfully, "always."

_Happy New Year!_

As the cheers erupted all around us, her lips crashed into mine, and in her kiss I tasted the undeniable sweetness of a future with infinite possibilities.

* * *

_Well, that was fun to write! Hope you enjoyed it too – one more short epilogue to go. Stay tuned, and please review!_

_This story was written and posted March 2016._


	7. Remembrance Epilogue

_Title: Remembrance_

_Author: Lisa_

_Chapter: Epilogue_

_Rating: PG  
_

_Author's Notes:_

_Yay one more story to check off my list! :) Enjoy this short, mushy conclusion, and don't forget to leave me a note at the end!_

_Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does._

* * *

Whoever said reality never exceeded expectations clearly had not been kissed, fully and soundly, by one, Usagi Tsukino. I hadn't proper words to describe the feeling, the _taste_, with any justice—not that I had ever been some poet by any stretch of the imagination—but the closest comparison would probably be to sugar-sweet snowflakes that melted on my tongue, irresistibly soft lips made icy by the cold that somehow ignited an insatiable fire in the pit of my stomach. I had never understood others' relentless and often blindly foolish (in my mind, at least) pursuit of passion and pleasure. Yet now it slammed into me like a swift punch in the gut that left me breathless and wanting more, more, more.

My lips broke free from her too-addictive mouth momentarily to a small gasp of complaint from the blond. I drew in a much-needed breath of air and soon turned my attentions to the perfect curve of her neck. I kissed every part of her silky skin that my lips could comfortably reach, marveling at its softness and drowning in the heady scent that was so uniquely Usagi. She moaned quietly in my ear to reward my efforts, and I felt an electric shock travel all the way down my body until I swear I could feel my toes tingling. To think that _this_ was what I had been missing out on all this time…well, I certainly had a lot of catching up to do.

I could've lost myself in her warmth and caresses all night, but we needed to talk about what she had just said. She had spoken that last sentence to me a lifetime ago, those deceptively simple words that had blessed my dreams and given me hope during the darkest depths of my loneliness.

"Usako," I began breathlessly, unable to help the smile that curved my lips upward as I studied her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. "Not that I want to stop kissing you…believe me, that's the last thing I want..."

"I know." She fortunately saved me from my uncomfortable rambling and let out a breath, and I watched the puff of air with fascination as it flowed up toward the night sky. "Look, about what I said…"

"You remember." It wasn't a question so much as it was outward confirmation. I could see it her eyes, like heavy black clouds giving way to a clear blue sky after a thunderstorm. "How much?"

"Not everything," Usagi admittedly slowly. "It's like…how can I describe it..." She seemed frustrated at the limitations of human language, an aggravation that I had shared more than once just this evening. "It's more like…like bits and pieces of an old movie that I'd seen long ago, where I remember the overall plot and some specific scenes…but not every detail." She pinned me with those beautiful orbs once more, as if willing me to understand with those too-blue eyes. "Does that make any sense at all?"

"Hai," I replied quietly, "it makes perfect sense." Sensing her hesitation, I forced myself to continue. "You must wonder why I never told you. After we first met again. Why I pretended to get to know you all over again, like some stranger on the street."

"But weren't we?" Usagi let out a long sigh as I tensed instinctively from shock. She noticed my visible discomfort and grabbed my wrist. "Hear me out, Mamo-chan. When we first met again…I felt inexplicably drawn to you ever since I almost broke down your door thinking it was Minako-chan's," she laughed a bit, "but…I didn't know you." Usagi shivered, and I wrapped my arm around her slender shoulders, taking comfort in the feeling of her body pressed tightly against mine. "We grew into different people, Mamo-chan. We had to—what choice did we have? And I'm happy that we have the past to connect us now too, but make no mistake." Her hands were grasping my arm so tightly that it started to hurt, yet I didn't mind. "I'm in love with _you_, the man you are now. The man you've become, regardless of what happened in our past." Usagi's grip loosened, and she was suddenly unable to make eye contact. My heart skipped a beat in fearful anticipation. "And I hope…I hope you feel the same about me…not…well, not just because I'm _her_, the girl who gave you that framed rose on your nightstand, but _me_, Usagi Tsukino, the girl who always eats an obscene amount and talks too loudly and falls over too much for her own good and…"

My lips silenced her speech, as I couldn't bear to hear her tear herself down anymore. I had to put an end to her doubts, now and for always. Usagi was right, of course, and her insight and wisdom made me love her just that much more. She was _her_, my tiny angel from ten years past, but she was also this incredible young woman standing before me now. That Usagi had blossomed into my Usako, and it was my Usako that I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving, if she'd allow me the honor.

"I love _you_," I whispered fervently, "the girl who can eat whatever she wants and still maintain a flawless figure, who brightens up any room just by appearing and making everyone feel comfortable with her lively chatter, and who makes my day everyday by giving me an excuse to catch her when she trips."

"Mamo-chan…" I wiped the twin salt trails that slid down her cheeks before shooting her a lopsided smile.

"You're perfect, Usako. Just the way you are."

Usagi was quiet for a moment, her eyes glazed, and I would've given anything to be privy to her thoughts. "I don't think I ever forgot you," she said finally, and I drew in a breath. "I don't think that could ever be possible." Usagi shook her head and rubbed her temples, as if trying to unearth and unlock the treasure chest of memories buried in the deepest recesses of her memory. "I remember dreaming about you for weeks, months even, after I left the hospital. I asked my parents about you. I wanted to write to you…" As difficult as this was to hear now, to know we had lost our chance to re-connect so long ago, my heart soared in learning that she hadn't promptly discarded our time together like yesterday's trash. "I think my mom even asked for your contact information after you'd been released, but the hospital couldn't give that out for confidentiality reasons." Her words spilled out faster now as the barrier that once sealed her memories melted away. "Over the next months and years, as I went to school and met new friends and, I don't know, _grew up_...my parents never talked about that time anymore, and I guess I started to doubt everything. Were you really real, or had I made you up to deal with my time at the hospital? Had I been lonely and scared and imagined a friend to cope? It was all so confusing, and I…shut down, in a sense. I pushed away those memories of you and moved on the best that I could."

"I understand," I replied simply, thankfully. And I meant it, with every fiber of my being. I understood and accepted what had happened now and received the best gift of all as a result—closure. That chapter of my past could finally be closed, so I could begin writing a new chapter with my Usako.

She brushed away that infuriating lock of hair that was always falling in my eyes, despite my best efforts to tame it. "So what now, Mamo-chan?"

It was a simple question with no simple answer. The old me would've tried desperately to grapple with our future, to anticipate every twist and turn and possible threat to our budding relationship, to control the uncontrollable. The new me, however, no longer feared the unknown. As long as I had Usagi by my side, we could stumble into the future together.

"I have hot chocolate," I offered with a smile.

"Well, why didn't you say anything sooner?!"

We walked hand-in-hand back into the apartment, and I slid the door closed quietly behind me, all-too-ready to enjoy this roller coaster of life and all the adventures to come.

* * *

_And, done! Thank you so much to all my reviewers – you guys are the best. I know sometimes updates are few and far in the between, but hope it was worth it in the end. Let me know what you think!_

_This story was written and posted March 2016._


End file.
